


Constraint and Concession

by readerinserttrashtbh



Series: The Witch and the Witcher [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Geralt Smut, Geralt is talkative, Rough Sex, Smut, geralt likes to mark, just pure smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23291059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readerinserttrashtbh/pseuds/readerinserttrashtbh
Summary: Maybe it was just a one time thing. But the air has changed between them. Geralt wants more of her.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: The Witch and the Witcher [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674961
Comments: 3
Kudos: 209





	Constraint and Concession

It had been two weeks since that night in Trafantal. You and Geralt hadn’t touched each other since, and the tension was getting to you. 

Not that you cared. It was just that, well, Geralt wasn’t paying for company either, so the two of you sat in your separate rooms, making yourselves come to thoughts of each other before settling down to sleep. 

Since the lich in Trafantal you’ve killed a couple of swamp dwelling creatures you weren’t even sure of the names of, and one giant beast that looked like it was melting and dripped boiling hot liquid on Geralt’s arm. And despite the amount of hands-on healing these creatures caused, you guys hadn’t done anything more than be friendly to each other, like nothing had happened. Not that there was much time for anything else. 

And now with the lack of quests, Geralt was dropping you back off in the town he picked you up from, with a couple of bags of gold and enough food to last a few days before it went bad. You’d feel wanderlust for a while, but you’d probably be here just long enough to settle down, to almost forget the wanderlust, and forget about the way Geralt’s chest felt against your back when he curled into you in sleep, before he would return with more promises of adventure and coin. 

You tried to ignore the stone weight in your gut as the two of you rode in comfortable silence towards your village. The money you acquired would be enough to keep your sister’s tavern open for a while longer, and hopefully enough to begin to draw other customers in over the other one in town. Otherwise, it would pay for some much needed repairs on the house you shared with her, and keep your garden alive with the herbs you needed to use for your spells. You should be happy to return.

You were lost in thought for a while as the two of you bounced on the back of Roach, until you felt a hard intrusion digging into your lower back. Reaching between you and Geralt to move the offending coin bag off to the side, your hand brushed the front of Geralt’s trousers and against something that certainly was not a purse full of gold. You let your hand linger. 

You thought you heard Geralt’s breathing change a bit, but it was hard to tell with the two of you still on the horse. You pressed down harder with your hand, rubbing it up the length you felt, and this time he definitely choked out a noise, his grip tighter on the reins. 

“Don’t,” he mumbled softly. You went to move your hand away in embarrassment but he let go of the reins to hold it in place. “Don’t start anything if you don’t plan on finishing it.” 

You smirked to yourself as the both of you kept your eyes ahead of you. “What makes you think I don’t plan on finishing it?” 

Geralt leaned in close, so his breath was on your ear again. “If we start now, I will not be able to stop. You need to be absolutely sure.” 

Geralt cursed his body for giving in to the way your ass would rub against him every once in a while and he cursed Roach for making it happen with the way he walked. He’d feel just the slightest rub of your perfect ass against the front of his trousers and he was transported back to the morning in Trafantal when he held two beautiful handfuls of that ass as he fucked into you. 

While fighting the swamp creatures, one of them had slashed your dress open above your hip, letting a sliver of your skin peek out. Dotted across the smooth skin of your hips, under the gash left by the creature, he could see finger-shaped bruises, ones he had left the one night he let his guard down and fucked you. 

He really hadn’t meant to. He’d been able to leave you alone the whole time he’d known you, opting instead to pay for working girls in taverns, knowing from previous experience that fucking a witch was always a bad idea even if you thought she was on your side. But you were different than other mages he’d encountered. You hadn’t gone through the rituals the others had - the years of training and learning to betray and ignore your own feelings - and you hadn’t gone through that awful procedure to change your body and your face; your looks - and your skills - were natural. He liked that about you. And for about three years now he had managed to never… But that night, god, the way you smelled was so irresistible. The way you had responded to his body so close to yours, the waver and squeak in your voice when he asked you if it was what you wanted… he couldn’t deny himself anymore. And the morning after, before he knew he would regain control over himself, he had to taste you, had to let you know he wasn’t just in it for him. 

He’d been disappointed when the bruises began to fade. He had grown used to stealing glances at them while you’d bathe. 

So it certainly wasn’t his fault that his mind wandered while on the horse, especially with the delicious way the saddle was forcing your ass to sway against his groin. Not when the mark he had left on your neck was still there, faded now, but glaring him in the face as if in a dare. And certainly not with the way he could hear the smirk on your voice when you asked him why he thought you wouldn’t go through with it. He grit his teeth. 

“If we start now, I will not be able to stop. I need you to be absolutely sure.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you replied, the teasing edge still to your voice. You squeezed him tighter again and he stopped the horse, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“If we start this, I won't be able to stop. Ever.” You took a moment to think over what he meant by that. Sensing your confusion, he spoke again. “If you let me fuck you into oblivion right now,” he paused, taking a breath as he fought back his arousal. “I will not be able to drop you off and be done with it for months. I will not be able to take you back on any quests, and sit on the other side of the wall in a tavern when I can hear you pleasuring yourself. I will not be able to make a camp with you and let you sleep there peacefully without sinking myself into you. If we do this now, I will want you every day. I will want to smell you, taste you, feel you around me every chance I get. I need you to be absolutely sure that is what you want.” 

Even as he said the words he could smell the arousal rolling off of you in waves, his cock jumping, eagerly awaiting your response. 

You could hear the restraint in his voice, how he was trying so hard to not give in to himself and failing miserably. You weighed your options. Seemingly unlimited, amazing sex with one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met: A good option - with the added benefit of action and adventure, but the increased risk of death. The other option however, was to say no to this now, and never bring it up again: you weren’t even sure you’d be able to be around Geralt anymore after knowing the sinful things he could get you into. Simple choice, really.

“I want you, Geralt.” The words had barely left your mouth and Geralt growled, a low deep sound that drove you crazy, and steered Roach off the path he had been trotting along, heading into the woods that surrounded you. 

The second you were in thick enough wood to be hidden from anyone travelling along the road, Geralt hopped off Roach and began tying his lead to a nearby tree, then turned to watch you as you climbed down from the horse’s back.

You said a few enchantments - a protective barrier around a small area the two of you occupied, with the added benefit of masking sound. Satisfied with your work, you turned to look at Geralt. 

Sensing the arousal rolling off of him, you held you hand out to him, beckoning him closer. He walked forward while pulling off his silken shirt, and when he approached you he tilted his head down to you, meeting his lips with yours in a kiss much slower than the ones you had shared a few weeks ago, but with no less fire behind it. You let your hands travel his chest and abs as you deepened the kiss, brushing your tongue gently over his lower lip and making him groan. One of his hands was in your hair and the other was inching its way towards your back, threatening to undo the straps and ties that held your emerald dress on your body. You smirked into the kiss and, before his fingers could make the move, dropped to your knees in front of him. 

If Geralt had thought you impossible to resist before, it was nothing compared to the sight of you sinking to your knees in that dress that teased him with the smallest hint of cleavage. The sinful look you gave him as you began undoing his trousers had him fighting to regain any kind of cognition or intelligible thought. He balled his hands into fists as your somewhat cold hand wrapped around him, giving him a few experimental strokes before licking a long warm stripe up the underside of his cock. He let his breath out through his teeth, threading his hand through your hair as you closed your lips around his sizable head and swirled your tongue under the sensitive tip. You took him deeper into your mouth, hearing him choke back another groan and tighten his grip in your hair, pulling your head back slightly. 

You pulled off of him to look up at him through your lashes, his eyes focused intently on your face and his tongue sticking out slightly in between his pursed lips. He groaned at the look you gave him when you bit your lip, still working your hand up and down on him. 

It took you a while to get used to a rhythm, but you soon were bobbing up and down in time with your hand twisting and pulling around the base, guided by his hand in your hair that gently pulled and pushed your head. Geralt placed his other hand to rest on the tree next to him, his breathing speeding up as he got closer to release. You popped off him with a smirk and stood up, reaching around your back to undo the knots on your dress. His words from before had given you the confidence that he truly wanted you as much as you craved him, and so, naked before him as he caught his breath, you spun around slowly so he could see every inch of your naked body. His marks had faded a while ago, and you were determined to gain more. 

As Geralt pushed himself off the tree to follow your alluring form, he suddenly found himself blocked by an invisible wall just before he reached you. Your face lit up in amusement, backing away and moved your body in ways that would arouse the oldest priest. He growled in frustration as he felt the wall lower and he stepped through it, walking towards you more slowly as he tried to predict your next move. 

You thwarted his attempts two more times, and when you saw the real anger build in his eyes you took mercy on him, allowing him to reach you and grip your hips roughly as he pulled you to him. The kiss he caught your lips in was harsh, teeth clashing, breaking through skin on your lower lip as he bit down on it. He backed you up to a tree, the bark rough on the skin of your back, and then sank to his own knees in front of you. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and immediately dove in, his nose and chin becoming slick with your arousal that until then had been ignored. He added his fingers soon, scissoring them, loosening you for his impressive size, before standing up and wrapping both of your legs around his hips. 

He caught your lips in another bruising kiss before entering you slowly, both of you groaning at the sensation. Geralt hung his head on your shoulder once fully seated, catching his breath and trying not to be overwhelmed by the feeling of you around him. He knew when he reached this moment two weeks ago there was no going back, not ever, now that he’d given into himself, and this feeling only affirmed that as he slotted perfectly into you. When he felt you clench around him in impatience it drove him to the edge of reason. He fisted one of his hands in your hair, pulling your head back and baring your neck to him. He sucked, licked and bit his way up and down your neck, not stopping until he was confident he had marked you up enough for him to admire for the next week or so. All the while he was slowly rocking into you, pushing you into the tree behind you and causing the bark to scratch your back. 

He moved both hands to your hips so he could hold you in place and fuck into you roughly, and the look of want that overtook your face had him losing what little control he had left. He pounded into you, losing himself in the pleasure but watching your face, loving the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. 

“Fuck, Geralt, you feel so - good,” you gasped out in between moans. Motivated by your words he shifted you slightly, hitting a new angle. He felt the first twitches of your orgasm around him and was unable to hold out any longer, bringing one of his thumbs to your clit and rubbing to make sure you hit your peak as he did. His orgasm was punctuated with a strangled groan, yours with a suppressed call of his name. 

After he let you down slowly from the tree, you stood on wobbly legs, leaning on him for support. You wandered over to where your dress had fallen on the ground, beginning the complicated process of putting the dress on and tying it up. When you were done, Geralt was already fully dressed, and untying Roach from the tree. You waved a hand to create an illusion around your neck to hide the marks, but received a look from Geralt. 

“Keep them,” he gruffed, mounting Roach and waiting for you to do the same. 

“Why?” you asked, keeping the illusion up.

“Because I like to see them.” 

“And I’d like the people of my village and my sister to not see them.” 

Geralt just shrugged. “I do not see why they would have an issue with it.” 

“Because I am not a whore,” you snapped back, hopping up onto Roach. Geralt looked a bit taken aback by this answer. You softened a bit. “Marks like these are inevitably going to lead to questions, Geralt.” 

“And? The answer is that they are my work.” 

“You said you can’t just drop me off to my village and leave me there. I must visit my sister. You would be staying in the village with me.”

Geralt didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue your explanation. You sighed. 

“They are wary of outsiders. Doubly of Witchers. They already dislike that I’ve agreed to hire myself out to you. The marks may imply I’ve also sold my body to you. They wouldn’t take kindly to that.”

Once again he didn’t say anything, but let out a gruff of understanding, even if annoyance was mixed in. He began steering Roach back to the main road and you sighed.

“They will stay visible until we reach the village.” you waved away the illusion. 

“Much better,” his voice was deeper and gruffer than it usually was, a sign his arousal was building back up. You placed your hand over his on the reins, pulling Roach to a halt before you left the woods. 

“You know,” you started, turning to look at him with a glint in your eye. “We don’t have to go back today. The sun’s getting low. We should make camp for the night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well everyone, I hope this brings some joy in these strange and dark times. I got sent home from my semester abroad (:( ) and am in quarantine. Due to online classes I will either have 1. all the time in the world to write this story now or 2. absolutely no time at all. We'll see what these next few weeks bring. 
> 
> ALSO!!!! STAY HOME.


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